


Transcendental

by MomentarilySane



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Fairies, Fantasy, Gen, Half-breed, Hidden Life, Magic, Running Away, Secrets, War, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MomentarilySane/pseuds/MomentarilySane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a prompt by Tumblr user: maxkirin "Write about a character who was born from two different powerful races. Sadly, both people are now at war, and this child is being asked to pick which side they wish to stay with. Explore their point of view, their thoughts and fears, as they come to a decision."</p>
<p>I strayed a little from this prompt. There is a lot loss introspection than what it called for. All the same, here is how I think this would have played out if the character in this prompt were Martin from Cabin pressure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transcendental

Martin approached his home warily. The energy of the building had shifted since he left to play with the water Fae that morning. He wouldn’t have considered entering at all had it not been for the fact that he could still sense his mother inside, pacing the living room. With the deepest breath a young half-breed could manage, he entered his home.

His mother turned sharply, her green floral dress and bright red hair sweeping with the motion. At the sight of Martin her body language softened and she forced a smile on her face. “Darling, why do you hesitate?”

“What’s going on?” he asked softly, eyes scanning their small cabin. 

“You are too sharp for your own good,” her bright green eyes regarded him sadly.

“Mother,” he begged, walking so that he stood in front of her. He had grown tall for his age, and the tip of his head just barely reached her shoulders.

She gestured to a chair without a word and he sat without question. His mother, as gentle as she seemed, was never disobeyed. She lead with a gentle hand that no one could say no to. It was a quality that served her well in ruling the Fae. “The sorcerers have declared war on the Fae,” she cut straight to it.

“What?!” Martin gasped. “But why would they do that? Why would Father-” he cut off at the look of betrayal that crossed his mothers face. Like Martin’s Mother was Queen to the Fae, Martin’s Father was King to the Sorcerers. Their marriage had been out of love but offered the bonus of merging their two kingdoms. If a war had been declared, it was no doubt Martin’s Father that had declared it.

“They wish for power over my forests. A power they no longer enjoy sharing with me and when I declined to hand control over to them they announced it,” the Queen’s eyes had hardened as she spoke of their meeting. “Every magical being of our two worlds is being called to arms to serve. No exception, save the babes.”

There was a beat of silence before a soft voice askied “What about me?”

The Queen’s eyes snapped back to the frightened form of her son. Just barely of age to join the fight. “Oh, dear-” she sighed, taking a knee to look him dead in the eyes. “I cannot protect you from this. However as you are of both worlds I can offer you one small kindness. You have the freedom to pick which side you fight for.” Even as she made her offer she could tell that it made nothing better.

Martin felt his entire world change from under him. All he wanted was to curl up at home and hide, but the energies had shifted and home didn’t even feel like home. He took a breath to steady himself. “May I have a moment to think?” his request sounded painfully formal, even to him. 

His mother sagged with sympathetic grief. “Of course my child.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the floor as he nodded once and walked back out the front door. He walked around their cabin and followed the path that weaved through the trees in the back. He hadn’t made the conscious decision to not stop until night fell and not even he was sure where he was. It was then, in the silence and peace of the forest at rest he pondered his situation. He was an earth Fae, he decided. If the Fae forests weren’t his home anymore then that was fine, he would find a new one. It couldn’t be that hard. 

With that thought he continued to follow the path. Wherever it may lead him.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tuesday found itself to be an absolutely miserable day. The skies were disparagingly gray with a most persistent drizzling of rain. Not to mention that there was a most uncomfortable chill in the air, that settled itself in Martin's bones in the short distance he had to walk from his van to the portakabin. A final chill racked its way through his body before he burst into the portakabin and into the embrace of space heaters on full blast. 

“Douglas,” he greeted his first officer before shedding his jacket and settling at his desk. “Have you filled out the flight plan?”

Douglas glanced up from the book in his lap, gazing over his feet, propped up on his own desk, before replying “And deny sir the pleasure of doing it himself? Wouldn’t dream of it!” and glancing back down at the book.

“Douglas! You know we need to have the filled out asap in case-”

“-in case the client shows up and wishes to leave in twenty minutes. Yes captain, I’m well aware of what ‘standby’ is. However, last time I arrived first and decided to attempt the flight plan you bit my head off,” Douglas kept his gaze steady on the book.

“That’s only because you rounded your numbers!” Martin's huff was almost comical.

Douglas raised an eyebrow and finally turned his gaze to Martin. “I rounded up to the closest half hour on the ‘Time en route’. Hardly a catastrophe.”

“You must be absolutely specific!” Upon hearing the beginning of a particularly favored rant of Martin's, he turned his attention back to his book. Only looking up again when Martin asked “Where are Carolyn and Arthur anyways?”

“In Carolyn’s office, discussing why Arthur cannot feed the pilots of his mothers jet lasagna made with chocolate sauce instead of tomato,” Douglas chuckled. The humor of the situation only existing because Carolyn had caught Arthur stocking the kitchen with chocolate sauce.

With that they fell into silence as Martin filled out the flight plan - as specifically as he could thank you very much - and Douglas returned to his book. He didn’t look up again until it had gotten so dark outside that he could no longer read the words. He glanced up to see everything dark except for Martin's desk, illuminated by a small lamp, and Martin gazing out the window with what looked like intense concentration.

“Is everything alright?” Douglas asked, not allowing the true depth of his concern to show. The young pilot looked on the verge of true distress and that was something Douglas didn’t like all too much.

“Yeah…” Martin responded, sounding a million miles away. He jolted slightly, coming back to himself before continuing “Yeah, it’s just a little darker than it should be. Don’t you think?”

Douglas offered a shrug and snapped on his own lamp that, paired with Martin's, worked to illuminate the portakabin quite sufficiently. “I suppose. A bad storm must be brewing.”

“That’s my fear,” Martin returned his gaze to the window.

“No reason for that. This weather should scare the client away from flying today. Even if she wanted to show, we have a strong basis to decline,” Douglas tried to sooth what he assumed to be Martin's fear. 

The confusion was a mere flicker on Martin's face, too quick for Douglas to catch, when Martin caught on to what he was saying and nodded. Before he could even pretend to go back to work the door to the portakabin crashed open and a tall figure entered. It was a large man wearing a pitch black knee length coat that gave way to legs covered in equally dark pants. He had long blond hair that was pulled back in a low pony tail. Douglas couldn’t explain, but the man seemed to have an opaque aura of darkness. That just couldn’t be right though.

Douglas was too focused on watching the large man enter to notice the color drain from Martin's face. “Excuse me sir, but you’re not allowed in here. I can direct you to the airport though. You may have missed it, it’s the large building you had to walk by to get here.”

“Shush, mortal,” the man snapped, fixing Douglas with a glare before focusing on Martin.

“Mortal?!” Douglas cried indignantly. 

His cry drew the attention of the other two occupants of the cabin and soon enough Carolyn and Arthur had joined them in the main room. “What is going on?” Carolyn’s shrill voice cut through the room.

“Skip?” Arthur worried, seeing the strange man so focused on Martin.

“Oh lord, mortals be quiet!” the man snapped a glare that managed to silence even Carolyn. With a satisfied smile he refocused. “Martin,” the man drawled stopping right in front of his desk. He allowed his eyes to drift down to his desk and lazily dragged a paper across the top. “Martin Crieff. How… pedestrian,” the man managed to mock him through his eyes.

Martin stood up ramrod straight and with adverted eyes addressed him “Learus. Sir.” Douglas would have normally made fun of Martin, sir calling someone else sir, but he had an uneasy feeling about what was happening.

“Peculiar place you’ve settled. It was rather bothersome to track you down…” the man continued, his voice laced with false pleasantry.

“Then why did you?” Martin kept his voice very polite and demure.

“I wanted to see you.”

“That’s… nice.”

“Not really,” Douglas could have sworn the mans eyes flashed a rather disturbing shade of red. However impossible that was. “The war is won. The Fairy Folk are now under Sorcerer rule,” his smile was sickening and Martin couldn’t help but be petulant.

“They were before,” his grumble was barely audible.

“Oh but they weren’t. I shared rule with a Fairy Queen,” Learus hissed

“And what of Mother?” Martin's voice was a whisper Douglas had to struggle to hear.

“She was made an example of. We had to remove hope from those she ruled, it succeeded quite nicely,” his smile was sickly. Martin's face crumbled, his watery eyes staring holes into the floor. “Oh, but don’t feel bad for her. Feel bad for yourself.” Martin's eyes snapped up to meet his fathers.

“Whatever do you mean?” he failed to keep the fear from his voice.

“Well you, my son, are a deserter of your people. You must also be made an example of, to quash any thoughts of rebellion,” Learus’ voice was eerily calm for the topic.

“And you’d achieve such by making an example of your own son?” Martin gasped in disbelief. The man merely had to raise an eyebrow in response for Martin to remember who he was talking to and sag his shoulders forward in defeat. 

Douglas stood to speak, drawing both father and sons attention, but stopped short at Martin pleading look. “And what of them?” Martin asked, distracting his father. “You just revealed both the world of the Fae and magical folk to three mortals.”

“Well, I’ll simply have to kill them,” the man shrugged without a second thought. Before Douglas could even think of trying to react again and Carolyn could launch into a fit, they were caught off guard by a flash of red in Martin's eyes, Douglas noted that it was very similar to that of his father.

“No,” Martin snarled.

“Excuse me!” Learus had a look of sheer amusement on his face.

“You can’t just waltz in here, reveal all of my secrets to these three mortals and then kill them. You can be banished for telling one mortal without just cause, a thing you lack. That’s not a great first act as King of the Sorcerers and Fae, now is it?” Martin hissed, stepping around his desk to meet his father.

His Fathers face dropped from amusement to distaste at the hint of the threat. “And how could you possibly prove any of that?”

“I can’t,” Martin responded. Confusing the three humans standing behind him. “However I can prove that you didn’t ‘just find me’ as you claim to have. You knew where I was the entire time I was gone, or is it a complete fluke that I’ve seen three of your personal Imps of Misfortune following me around since I left. I’m sure you’re aware that you had an obligation of reporting me as soon as I showed evidence that I wasn’t coming back. Something I did when I enrolled into high school. So please, kill these three mortal and take me back to stand trial for desertion. I am giddy to tell everyone the facts,” the air around Martin developed the same dark opaque look as Learus as he spoke, mirroring how his fathers expression darkened the more he spoke.

“Or I could just kill you now,” Learus ground out.

“You could, sure. Entire crew of MJN air found dead in their portakabin, that’ll be all over the news along with pictures of us. Remind me, how many Sorcerers watch the mortal news? Was it 75 or 80%?” the rest of MJN felt shivers go down their spines at the smirk that spread across Martin's face.

“Brat,” the man snarled, looking as if he were actually going to kill them all before letting out a resigned huff. “You’re a disgrace to your kind.”

“That’s nothing new,” Martin's smirk slipped a bit, but he held his fathers stare until the older man gave up. With one last warning snarl he glided out the door a gust of air slamming it behind him.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The portakabin fell into silence. Everyone stood perfectly still until the aura around Martin dissipated. They slowly relaxed at that, but still no one moved until Martin sagged and rested against the edge of his desk. He refused to look anyone in the eye, that much was obvious by how interested he was in staring at the floor. 

Finally, it was Arthur who moved first. Despite Carolyn’s silent signals to stay, he walked forward and settled himself down beside Martin. “So… that was your father?” he broke the silence.

There was a beat before Martin let out a barely audible “Um, yeah.”

“Well then, I guess that means we’re in the same club,” Arthur allowed a little more hope and cheer to enter his voice, but still kept it rather quiet in case it may spook Martin.

That wasn’t what Martin was expecting and his head snapped up at the statement to actually look Arthur in the face. “And what club is that?” 

“The ‘Not Having Such A Brilliant Father’ club,” Arthur answered, offering a slight sympathetic smile. The sincerity of his statement caused the fear of imminent death to lift from Martin and he let out a slight chuckle.

“At least your father has never tried to kill you,” Martin sighed, stretching his arms out behind him and leaning back on them.

Arthur nodded and glanced back at Douglas and Carolyn who still seemed to be slightly shell shocked at the situation. “Skip, I have to ask and I hope you don’t mind but, what are Imps of Misfortune?”

Martin took a moment to think before answering “There these little creatures. They’re hard to see because they like to hide-”

“-Ooh, that sounds fun. You can play Hide and Seek whenever you like!” Arthur cut in, a wistful smile on his face.

“Er - sort of. Except these Imps like to mess with your life and bring all sort of rotten luck with them. They can affect how much money you have, how successful you are and pretty much every major area of your life. All they want is to make you miserable.”

“But Skip! That is awful! No amount of Hide and Seek can make up for that,” Arthur’s face fell into a heartbreaking look.

“No. It doesn’t,” Martin sighed. 

“Can you get rid of them?” Arthur regarded Martin with worry.

“Unless the person who sent them, in this case my Father, were to personally lift them from me, not really. I’ve only ever heard of one man who succeeded in getting rid of them, and he had to fake his death to do it.”

“Can you get your Father to take them?” Arthur persisted.

“After that display? I’m lucky to still be alive, Imps of Misfortune or not!” Martin had to repress a slightly hysterical laugh. Arthur ceased his line of questioning there.

Martin looked to Douglas and Carolyn to assess how they were feeling. He could see the cogs working in Douglas’ head and he pieced together everything he knew about Martin’s life. As much as Douglas didn’t want to, he had to admit the Imps of Misfortune sort of fit. He always thought that no one could be that unlucky.

Carolyn seemed to be turning something over in her mind. “Will he come back?” she spoke up.

“No, he basically disowned me. He’ll probably go back and claim I’m done away with,” Martin shrugged. He couldn’t say he was terribly torn up about it.

“Good. Can’t have him poking around, what if a client saw him! MJNs reputation would be shot!” Carolyn declared.

“You mean it’s not shot now?” Douglas quipped, feeling safe to join in on the topic.

“You want to talk about reputation?” Carolyn challenged, fixing him with a stare that dared him to respond.

“I still have a job?” Martin asked warily.

“Do you have any latent homicidal tendencies you wish to confess to?” Carolyn kept her voice absolutely serious.

“No!” Martin insisted.

“Then you have as much of a job as you had yesterday. Now back to work, excitements over,” she snapped, returning to her office.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Comments and Kudos are appreciated and very much welcome. Also I'm starting up a blog of my own where I will be posting both fanfiction pieces as well as my own original work. So if you're interested, please come check it out at www.the-mad-scribble.tumblr.com It's brand new, so there isn't much. Just this story really, but more is on its way! Many thanks!


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